


stay close

by ShowMeAHero



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cold Weather, Established Relationship, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, Kaer Morhen, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Winter At Kaer Morhen, and there was only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:27:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28116927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: Vesemir continues, “I didn’t hear from you about the bard, so your room is the only one with any fire. Nobody else has arrived, so if you don’t want to freeze, bard, you’ll either have to share or sleep in the hot springs.”Jaskier looks up to Geralt will thinly-veiled delight. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to share, won’t we? So I won’t freeze. Or drown.”Geralt pretends to consider it.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 10
Kudos: 279





	stay close

**Author's Note:**

> and there was Only One Bed™

By the time Jaskier and Geralt have made it to Kaer Morhen, Geralt’s so fucking exhausted that he doesn’t care about anything except finding a bed.

Based on the fact that Jaskier has been relatively silent for the last several hours of their trek up the mountains, he’s just as exhausted as Geralt, if not moreso. He’s still plucking helplessly at his lute, gloved fingers finding a tune as easily as he breathes, but he hasn’t sung in some time. The storm is nearly at its apex, the wind is blasting into their faces, and any attempts to open their mouths would likely steal the breath from their lungs, anyways.

The gates to Kaer Morhen open just enough for the two of them to pull Roach through. Vesemir awaits them on the other side, waves them through. Jaskier’s stopped plucking, his face nearly blue with cold, save his wind-bitten cheeks, his flushed nose. He’s clearly so tired, but he still manages a smile for Vesemir. Geralt settles a hand at the small of his back, guides him forward. He looks to Geralt, tired, but still manages a smile. As soon as Vesemir is close enough to touch, he clasps Geralt’s free hand in his; his other hand comes up to grip the back of Geralt’s neck, drawing their foreheads together. For a moment, they just breathe.

“Your room is made up,” Vesemir tells him. They separate, and he says, “I never received a response from you about whether or not the bard was coming.”

“Hello, the bard’s right here,” Jaskier says. “And he can hear you very well. Hello, Vesemir, lovely to see you, too—”

“Though I should have expected he’d come,” Vesemir cuts him off. Jaskier just laughs.

“You really should have,” Jaskier tells him. “Now, I hate to be ungrateful, but I’d wager it’s past two, and I’m really quite exhausted—”

“Bed,” Geralt says simply, and Vesemir motions them inside.

Vesemir continues, “I didn’t hear from you about the bard, so your room is the only one with any fire. Nobody else has arrived, so if you don’t want to freeze, bard, you’ll either have to share or sleep in the hot springs.”

Jaskier looks up to Geralt will thinly-veiled delight. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to share, won’t we? So I won’t freeze. Or drown.”

Geralt pretends to consider it.

“Fine,” he ultimately agrees. Jaskier lightly thumps his chest.

The path to his room is familiar, after all these years. The room Jaskier most frequently uses is right beside his, cold and dark, but Geralt’s old room is bright with flame when Vesemir leaves them in the open doorway. Jaskier doesn’t waste time stripping off his frosted, soaked layers, peeling them off one by one before he shakes his hair out like a dog and climbs under the covers on Geralt’s bed. For a moment, Geralt can only look at him, bathed in firelight, yawning, flushed, reaching for Geralt with one hand. The very tips of his fingers are blue as he beckons for Geralt to join him.

“I’m still cold,” Jaskier complains. Geralt makes quick work of his armor, but Jaskier still finds the time to add, “What a tragedy that my room isn’t suitable this year. Seems we’ll just have to share for the season.”

Geralt allows Jaskier to pull him under the covers with him before he finally lets himself smile, burying his face in the back of Jaskier’s neck.

“He didn’t say it wasn’t suitable all winter,” Geralt points out. “Just tonight.”

“As if you’ll ever be able get me out of your bed  _ now,”  _ Jaskier says. As if to prove himself, he pushes closer into Geralt, twisting back to give him the warmest kiss they’ve shared in over a week.

**Author's Note:**

> You can (and should!) comment to chat with me, or talk with me about this fic on Twitter at [@nicole__mello](https://twitter.com/nicole__mello) and/or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


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